


Home

by Remma3760



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 09:27:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remma3760/pseuds/Remma3760
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sudden snowstorm threatens to keep Blair from getting home to Jim. What can Jim do to help him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

## Home

by Remma

Author's website:  <http://www.geocities.com/morennab/sentinelindex.htm>

nope, still not mine

This story was originally written for my mongoose e-zine, The Many Seasons of Love.

* * *

Home  
By Remma 

Blair stared up at the softly falling flakes in disbelief. It had been so mild when he had left the house this morning, a bit nippy perhaps, but not _that_ cold, and yet now look...honest to goodness snow. It _never_ snowed in Cascade, even in the depths of winter. What the hell happened to global warming? 

"Blair, hey, Blair, wait up." 

He turned at the shout from his friend and fellow grad student, bouncing slightly in the chilly air to combat the cold. "Hey Brian, you need a lift into Cascade?" 

"No, I'm not going, that's why I stopped you. The conference organisers have arranged some rooms here for anyone who's worried about making it back in this weather." 

"But it's just a little snow flurry." 

"It is now, but the forecasters are predicting a major blizzard moving in." 

"Well that sucks. How come they're only now giving us this warning?" 

"Seems it was supposed to miss us, but changed direction at the last moment. So how about it, wanna share a room here? Good food...oceans of hot water...room service?" 

Blair didn't even have to think about it. As tempting as Brian made it sound, the thought of Jim, waiting at home with dinner on the table and a warm fire blazing in the hearth was way more appealing. With any luck, Jim would be wearing that cream cable knit sweater and his old faded jeans that fit like a second skin. Then again, if he was _really_ lucky, Jim would be wearing nothing _but_ the skin. His happy vision of Jim, naked, the soft light of myriad candles illuminating his radiant body, was rudely interrupted by a sharp prod from his waiting friend. 

"Blair, you still with me, man?" 

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted. What?" 

"Geez, where's your head at...are you staying or what?" 

"Oh, no, I really want to get home, if I leave now, I should be back before the blizzard hits." 

"Are you sure? Your car really isn't equipped for extreme weather...do you even _have_ snow tires?" 

"Why would I, I mean, when was the last time it snowed in Cascade?" 

"Good point. Well, if you're sure, I won't hold you up. Good luck getting home, and when you end up sleeping in your car, think of me all warm and snugly in a king size bed, stuffed to the gills with gourmet food and fine wines." 

"Nice, Brian. I could really learn to hate you." 

Laughing, Brian Tate ran back inside, turning for a final wave as he reached the hotel lobby. Blair waved back, then, hugging himself to still the shivers, he made his way to his Volvo, single-minded in his need to get home to his lover. 

* * *

Slowing even further, Blair peered through the wall of white. He was stunned at the speed with which the storm had developed, the biting wind flinging the enormous snowflakes against his windshield, visibility now a real problem. 

Fortunately, most of the other drivers had also reduced their speed in deference to the appalling conditions. A rash few, however, still sped by, skidding dangerously on the slush and black ice. The recklessness of such idiots never ceased to amaze Blair. What could possibly be so important that they would take such risks? Admittedly, he was eager to be with Jim, but he would rather delay their reunion by an hour or so than forever. 

It was with relief that he finally spotted his exit, turning carefully, wary of skidding on the turn since all road markings had been obliterated by a blanket of snow. 

If he had hoped that the conditions would pick up once he was off the highway, then he was rapidly disabused of that notion. The slippery roads had caused numerous collisions, and with so many intersections blocked, traffic was backed up all around the city. He crawled forward as the lights changed, but got no more than a few inches before they again turned to red. 

Slapping the wheel in frustration, Blair began to face the very real possibility that he would not be getting home that night. So far, a journey that should have taken fifteen minutes had lasted over an hour, and showed no signs of improving. 

The depressing situation he found himself in wasn't helped any by a seriously pressing call of nature...a need which became ever more desperate with every passing minute. He shifted around in his seat, the painful pressure in his bladder making him squirm uncomfortably. Annoyingly, he could hear the echo of Jim's voice in his head, enquiring, oh so patiently, why he hadn't thought to go before he left. Well, if he'd known how long the drive would take, he _would_ have gone. 

He looked around at the other cars, weighing up the odds of being able to surreptitiously open his door and take care of business without getting caught. Regretfully, he discarded the idea. With his luck, you could almost guarantee that the one and only cop within spitting distance, or in his case, pissing distance, would spot him and arrest him for indecent behaviour. 

His distraction kept him from noticing that the traffic was once more inching forward, a loud honk from the car behind alerting him to that fact. Before he could react, a sleek silver BMW cut in front of him, filling the space that had opened up. He pushed his own horn in aggravation; he really hated when that happened. 

Turning his attention once more to his most immediate concern, he started rifling through the clutter on the back seat for anything he could use to relieve his problem. He emerged triumphant from the mess, a broken kettle from his office, which he had long been meaning to fix, clutched exultantly in his hand. 

Manoeuvring the old kettle into position between his knees, he unzipped, then, with a sigh of contentment, directed a seemingly never-ending stream in through the open top. Amazing how easily this sudden relief could drive all other cares from a man's mind, at least temporarily. 

Once the deed was done, he casually opened the car door and tipped the kettle's contents into the road, happy to have at least one problem solved. Now if only the traffic would untangle itself, his joy would be complete. 

Almost as if his wish were being granted, the line of cars next to him began to move forward slowly. Sitting forward in anticipation, he slipped the car into gear, hoping that this was a good omen for his own lane. He frowned in vexation as, once again, the imbecile in the silver BMW forced his way into the stream of cars, earning the inconsiderate driver a cacophony of blaring horns. 

Blair pulled forward, and then saw with delight that unexpectedly his lane was achieving some forward momentum, and there was a good chance he would make it across the lights before they changed. Clearly, silver BMW thought so too, as he tried to cut back in in front of Blair. Determined to thwart his evil intent, Blair kept aggressively close to the car in front, chortling victoriously when he successfully put paid to the selfish prick's scheme. Then he was on the other side, making it just as the red reappeared. 

He jumped, startled as a loud grating crash brought on a sudden stillness. Turning, he saw that Mr. BMW had unwisely tried to follow him across, too arrogant and self-important to wait for the next change. He had not succeeded. He had been struck near his rear end, the force shunting him around ninety degrees into the path of a third car. None of the collisions was life threatening, but enough to put all three cars out of commission for the foreseeable future. 

Deep down, Blair knew he shouldn't be pleased at the misfortune of others; after all, there were the other two drivers to consider, not to mention all those innocent travellers who would now be stuck at the intersection until the mess could be cleared up. All the same, it couldn't have happened to a more deserving jackass. 

Half an hour later, when he had progressed barely two blocks, he had the nasty feeling that his bad karma was catching up with him. Sighing, he rummaged through his backpack for his cell phone. He had been putting off making this call for some time, hoping that the circumstances might miraculously improve, in which case he could be home in less than ten minutes, but he now accepted that that was not going to happen. So, time to call Jim, before the poor mutt started chewing up the cushions with anxiety. 

The phone was picked up on the first ring, confirming his `Jim worrying' suspicions. 

"Sandburg?" 

"Yeah, it's me...miss me?" 

"Jesus Chief, where the hell are you, it's past eight?" 

"I know. I'm stuck in traffic. It's hell." 

"You couldn't call?" 

"I kept hoping things would get better, but they didn't. Seriously, Jim, I'm considering parking up and walking home. I could be there in half an hour." 

I don't know, Chief, it's pretty harsh out there...what are you wearing?" 

"Jim, I love you, man, but I really don't think this is the time for phone sex." 

"Sandburg..." 

"Okay, I know...and no, I'm not properly dressed for a hike in sub zero temperatures, it's just...dammit, I am _so_ close. It's so frustrating. I pissed in a kettle." 

"I realise it's aggravating, but that's no excuse for wantonly abusing domestic appliances, Chief." 

"Funny, Jim, I'm glad _you're_ having a good time." 

"I never have a good time when you're not with me." 

"Nice recover...hoping to get some tonight are you?" 

"Sandburg, I'm a guy, I'm _always_ hoping to get some." 

"Good point. Unfortunately, all _I'm_ going to get tonight is frostbite unless there's some kind of celestial intervention on a massive scale. You know, I can practically _see_ the loft from here." 

"Really? Hold on a minute..." 

"Jim, what are you doing...Jim?" Blair listened to the thumps and rustlings from the loft, wondering what his beloved was up to now. 

"Chief, you still there?" 

"Where else would I be, Jim?" 

"So can you see me...I'm out on the balcony?" 

"You know, when I said I could see the loft...I might have been exaggerating, and what do you think you're doing out on the balcony? Get your ass back inside before you catch pneumonia." 

"You told me you couldn't get pneumonia from being out in the cold...you said it was a virus." 

"I knew it was a mistake to fill your head with too much useless information." 

"Maybe I can see _you_ , even if you can't see me. Whereabouts are you?" 

"Can you see the library clock tower?" 

"A-ha." 

"Okay, track right two streets, and back a block." 

"Damn, this is really hard...the snow distorts everything...it's like looking through lace curtains." 

"Oh well, it was a long shot." 

"But I want to _see_ you. Couldn't we use that piggyback thing?" 

"I guess that could work. Try to listen for my voice...you need to filter out all the traffic sounds and concentrate...you can do it, just let your ears guide your eyes." 

"Okay, you keep talking...shouldn't be a stretch for you." 

"God, Jim, you're on a roll...two jokes in five minutes...you'll be doing stand up at police conventions before you know it." 

"Sandburg..." 

"Okay, okay...how now brown cow..." 

Blair continued to ramble on, covertly pleased at this chance to test Jim's senses, not that he would ever let Jim in on the fact that he _was_ being tested. He was half way through `I'm a little teapot' when Jim's exited voice filled the car. 

"Chief, Chief, I can see you...first time I've been glad you have such a crappy car." 

"I think the word you're looking for there is _classic_ , Jim. And from someone who drives a truck older than me, `glass houses' and `stones' spring to mind." 

"Hey, leave Sweetheart alone...she's a work of art." 

"Sure she is, Jim, you keep telling yourself that, buddy." 

"Hmph. You know, Chief, I think I can see a way for you to get home?" 

"You can? Really? Does it include levitation, 'cause I gotta tell ya, I don't think my Shaman skills are up to it." 

"No, seriously, there's like a network of small roads and alleys that are completely empty." 

"That's because no one wants to risk getting stuck in them." 

"Well, it's up to you, Sandburg, you can sit there all night and pine for me, or you can trust _me_ to be the guide for once...what's it to be?" 

"I guess we could try it...I mean, what's the worst that could happen?" 

"You could get trapped in a massive snow drift, and no-one will find you 'till spring, when they pull your frozen, perfectly preserved, and still cute as hell corpse from that relic you drive." 

"The word _rhetorical_ means nothing to you, does it?" 

"Don't worry, Chief, I won't let anything happen to you." 

"Okay then, let's do this. Where do I need to go first?" 

"Can you see make it to that turn up on your right?" 

"I don't now Jim, it's a bit tight. I'll need to go real close to the parked cars." 

Blair manoeuvred past the four cars between him and the turning, biting his lip in concentration. Finally, he was there, not a single car so much as brushed. 

"Okay, now what?" 

"There's an alley up ahead...take it, then at the end turn right again." 

They went on in that way for some time, Jim directing Blair, who moved forward at a snail's pace, but at least he was moving. After several treacherous streets, he found himself facing another gridlocked road, at least as bad as the one he had just left. 

"Uh...Jim? The situation has not improved." 

"It's okay; I know what I'm doing. Turn right." 

"But won't that take me _away_ from home?" 

"Yes, but only for a bit, you'll be taking the first left." 

"Oh, okay." 

He did as he was told, and the slow, deliberate journey continued. 

"Jim, I hope you know where I am, because I have _no_ idea." 

"Of course I know...you'll be at the park as soon as you take the next right." 

"Okay, I see it, but I have no idea how I'm going to get around it, those cars are packed _solid_ , man." 

"You're not going to go around it, you're going through it." 

"What...are you _nuts_? I can't do that...what if someone sees me?" 

"Who's gonna see you? Santa and his elves? Get a grip, Sandburg." 

"What if they follow my tracks?" 

"The snow will cover them." 

"What if I get stuck in the mud?" 

"What mud? Just stay on the path." 

"But..." 

"Sandburg, do you want to get home or not?" 

"Well yeah, but..." 

"Then stop being a wuss, and get driving." 

"Okay, I'm driving, quit nagging." 

In fact, once Blair was in the park, crossing it was relatively easy. As long as he stayed between the trees that lined the footpath, the conditions were actually better than they had been on the road. Before long, he was at the gates, ready for his next directive from Jim. 

"I'm out, Jim, where to now?" 

"Left." 

"I was afraid you were going to say that. It's gonna take me awhile to get across..." 

"No, not the road...get up on the sidewalk." 

"You're kidding? Jim, I can't do that, it's...it's illegal." 

"Don't worry, Chief, I promise not to arrest you." 

"So, to be clear here...you _want_ me to break the law? You, Mr. Zero tolerance by-the-book, cop?" 

"That's my day job. After hours my duty is to watch out for cute anthropologists in distress." 

"Must be my lucky day." 

"Play your cards right, and _every_ day could be your lucky day." 

"Good thing I'm so great at cards, then, huh?" 

"I was counting on it, Chief. Now stop the chitchat and move it. I can see a parking spot in front of the bakery, but you need to get in quick 'cause I think there's this other guy trying to get to it." 

"I see it. God, that's going to be a tight turn. I'm going to hang up now...need to concentrate." 

"Okay. Oh...when you get into the building, use the stairs, the electricity has been acting up and you could get trapped if you use the elevator." 

"Stairs, no elevator...got it. Bye, Jim, see you soon." 

"Bye Chief, and don't worry, you can do it." 

Surprisingly, Blair found that he could, sliding in easily, ignoring the irate stare from the other driver who had so nearly seized the space. 

Jim stayed out on the balcony, watching over Blair until he was safely inside, safe in Jim's territory. 

* * *

Jim was waiting in the open doorway as Blair rounded the last corner, reaching out to tug him into a warm embrace as soon as he was in reach. Blair responded enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around the strong back. Seems there was a god since Jim was indeed wearing the cream sweater and criminally tight jeans. 

"Come here, my little Popsicle, I'll get you warm." 

"God, Jim, it's good to be home." 

"Yeah." 

"You know, you were right about the not walking. I mean, I'm parked practically across the street, but I _still_ froze my ass off getting inside." 

"Now that really _would_ be a loss to humanity." 

Blair laughed, pressing closer as Jim caresses said frozen ass. 

"Look, why don't you go get yourself thawed out in a nice hot bath while I get dinner ready." 

"I'm down with that. A shower would be quicker though." 

"Quicker, but not as effective. It's a bath you want." 

"Maybe. What's for dinner...I am _so_ hungry. All they gave us for lunch was play food." 

"Play food?" 

"You know, little bitty sausage rolls, canaps, those tiny crust less sandwiches, and lots of stuff on sticks. Play food. So, what's for dinner?" 

"I got Chinese on my way home. All I need to do is heat it up." 

"Cool. Did you get the kun-po squid?" 

"Yes, and the crab meat sweet corn soup, and bang bang chicken, satay squewered vegetables, spicy salt ribs..." 

"Grilled dumplings and crispy seaweed with the grated scallop?" 

"Yes, that too." 

"Beancurd with..." 

"Sandburg, I got _all_ your favourites. There's enough food there to feed a family of four for a week...or you for a couple of days, so don't worry, I promise you won't starve." 

"Sounds yummy, maybe a shower _would_ be..." 

"No, it wouldn't. Blair, you're shivering, you need to get warm. Now, go get in that bath, and stay in it until you can feel all your extremities." 

"Hmmn, am I going to be needing my extremities?" 

"Maybe later, if you behave yourself and do as you're told." 

"Yes sir, right away, sir." 

Blair snorted, dodging to avoid the swat aimed at his head, ducking into the bathroom and pulling the door shut firmly behind him. 

* * *

Lying back, Blair luxuriated in the feel of the water as it flowed around his body, heating his chilled flesh and returning the life to his frozen limbs. He was surprised by how cold he had become, his fingers and toes tingling as the thaw had set in. He realised that had he followed his inclinations and attempted to walk home, then hypothermia would have been a very real possibility. 

At least he was home now. He spared a thought for all those unlucky people still trying to negotiate their way through the giant car park that was Cascade. He wished them luck, smiling to himself as he thought that no one was as lucky as he was. No one else had his Jim to come home to. 

His musings were cut short by a knock on the door. 

"How are you doing in there, Chief...not cold anymore?" 

"I'm fine, Jim...warm and toasty." 

"Glad to hear it, buddy. Dinner's ready when you are." 

"Okay, I'll be out in five." 

Soapy rivulets flowed down his body as he rose from the bath, wrapping his hair with one fluffy white towel, and patting himself dry with another. Reaching for his robe, he paused. Jim was always teasing him about his tendency to cover himself from head to toe, even now, after over a year as lovers. 

Well, maybe it was a time for a change. Scorning his robe, he instead wrapped the towel around his waist, allowing it to sit low on his hips. Freeing his hair, he ran his fingers through it to comb out the tangles, then shook his head to settle it. Satisfied with his preparations, he opened the door with a puff of steam, and then stepped out into his fantasy. 

No wonder Jim had wanted him to have a long soak; he had certainly been busy in the meantime. Outside, the snow still fell, quite beautiful now that it no longer kept him from his hearts desire. Inside, candles adorned every available surface, their flickering light casting beguiling shadows over the walls and ceiling. 

A fire blazed in the hearth, and in front of it, Jim had laid down a sheet-covered comforter, around which an enticingly aromatic array of cartons and boxes were arranged. There was even a bottle of wine cooling in a bucket. The only thing missing from this impromptu picnic was Jim. 

"Jim, I'm ready." Blair called up the stairs, assuming that Jim had decided to change, so the voice coming from the couch came as something of a shock. 

"That's good, so am I. Better come and get it while it's hot." 

"Oh, hey, Jim, I thought you were upstairs. You know, this looks really...oh my god...you...you're...uh..." 

Blair was babbling. He knew it, but he couldn't seem to get his mouth to co-operate. He was also staring, but he defied anyone not to stare at the sight of Jim Ellison supine on a couch, wineglass in hand, and wearing nothing but a contented, predatory smile. 

"You're looking a little over dressed there, Chief." Reaching out, Jim grasped the edge of the towel, twitching it off with a flourish. "Aah, that's better. Ready to eat?" 

"Eat?" 

"Yeah, you know...dinner." 

"Huh?" 

Muscles rippling, Jim rose languidly to his feet, pulling Blair over to the fire, then easing him down onto the comforter and placing a carton in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. 

"Come on, Chief...eat up." 

Dutifully, Blair raised the food to his lips and chewed mechanically, but the first taste of the spicy sauce instantly roused him from his daze, reviving all his former hunger pangs. He grabbed one pot after another, greedily consuming the contents, pausing only to pour himself some wine, and occasionally muttering, "god, this is good," around a mouthful of bean sprouts and egg noodles. 

Tipping up a carton to reach the last piece of chicken, a noodle dropped unnoticed onto Blair's bare thigh. Jim bent down to suck it into his mouth, slanting a shameless leer up at Blair as he did so. Blair regarded him for a moment, and then nonchalantly dropped another noodle. Jim licked one end, drawing it into his mouth and nibbling along its length. 

Blair shivered with pleasure. "So, we're gonna play nine and a half weeks, are we?" 

"I'm not playing, Blair." 

Blair's swallowed, his heart thumping wildly. He stared into Jim suddenly serious face, the pensive look in those beloved eyes stealing his breath with the force of their desire. Abruptly he could stand it no more, and he pounced, throwing himself at Jim and forcing him backwards. 

He sprawled on top of Jim, devouring him, his hunger for him all consuming. He pressed his mouth over Jim's, tongue striving for possession. There was nothing soft or romantic about his kiss. There was nothing but heat, and passion, and through it all an intensity of love that liquefied Blair's bones. 

Jim turned them, pushing Blair back onto the comforter, never once breaking the kiss, their mouths parting only long enough to breathe before connecting again. 

They lay together, Blair's legs curled around Jim's hips, their erect cocks kissing as eagerly as their mouths. Jim moved his lips around Blair's face, kissing his eyes, his cheeks, his nose, then back to his mouth, before moving down, licking Blair from his lips to his chest, to his waist, across his stomach to his hips. 

Jim's lips swirled around Blair's heavy balls and then enclosed his cock. Blair tensed his buttocks, pushing forward into Jim's mouth. He raised himself slightly to study Jim's body openly...the strong muscular back, the smooth sculpted buttocks and the long supple legs. He wrapped his own legs around Jim's back, seeing how the light dusting of darker hair contrasted with Jim's smooth skin. Their bodies meshed perfectly, the light from the fire brushing them with gold. 

Blair reached out and pulled Jim back up to kiss again, tasting wine and lust and barbecue sauce. He lay back, opening his legs. Jim spat on his hand and ran his hand along Blair's buttocks to his opening, stroking it lovingly. Blair widened his legs further, lifting his ankles onto Jim's broad shoulders in invitation. 

Jim rubbed the spittle on his own cock and into Blair's ass, entering him slowly. Jim held his legs, stroking them as he arched his body, pushing in as he lowered his torso so that they could kiss to the rhythm of his pumping strokes. 

Blair cried out, yelling Jim's name as he came against his rubbing stomach. His buttocks clenched as the orgasm flooded his body with sensations. The pressure was all it took to send Jim over the edge, his roar echoing through the loft as he came and came. 

Jim collapsed onto the comforter, breathing deeply. Blair rolled against him, arm around his waist and leg thrown over his thighs. Jim's turned toward him, his arms encircling him, holding him tight against his chest. 

It had been worth it, all the frustration and discomfort of his journey. He wouldn't have traded what he had now for a lifetime of luxury and pampering. He had never felt so loved, so protected as he did in his sentinel's arms. This was his place; this was where he belonged and where he knew he wanted to be for the rest of his life. Jim was his life now; he was home at last. 

** _The End_ ** 

* * *

End Home by Remma: morennab@yahoo.co.uk

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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